As Arya's carriage wheels rolled away from the palace grounds, she gazed out the window at the fading landscape of her aunt's kingdom. Her mind, however, was already in Calorina—with Ethan.
A gentle smile spread across her face as she envisioned their reunion. She imagined herself rushing out of the carriage and into his arms... Arya's heart skipped a beat as she pictured the scene vividly:
She would leap down from the carriage steps without waiting for the footman's hand. Her silk skirts would swirl around her ankles like soft music as she ran towards him. Ethan's eyes would widen in surprise, then sparkle with delight as he realized she was rushing to him—not just returning home.
Arya envisioned throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him into a fierce embrace. Her lips would brush against his ear, whispering barely audible words: "I've forgiven you... I've missed you... I still love you."
His strong arms would wrap tightly around her waist, lifting her off the ground as he spun her around. Arya's laughter would mingle with his low, happy growl—a sound that always melted her heart. She imagined the world around them melting away—only the thrumming of their reunited hearts remaining.
Arya's cheeks flushed softly in the carriage's dim light, her soul thrilling with anticipation: What would his first words be, after holding her close again? Would he cry tears of joy, like she almost was now?
Sofia found Cable in the palace library, intently pouring over scrolls of kingdom trade agreements. She closed the door softly behind her, a gentle smile gracing her lips.
"Cable, my love, I have something to share with you."
He looked up, curiosity sparking in his eyes, as he pushed aside the scrolls: "Sofia? What is it?"
"Arya confided in me before she left... about her and Ethan's past," Sofia began, sitting beside him. "It's a tragic yet beautiful love story. Arya and Ethan loved each other deeply, but her father, the late King, disapproved of their relationship. He sent Ethan to war and arranged Arya's marriage to another prince."
Cable's eyes widened in shock: "That is cruel. What happened when Ethan finally returned?"
Sofia's expression turned somber: "Ethan came back to find Arya engaged to another. He felt betrayed, believing she had moved on. In his pain and anger, a horrific mistake occurred—a fire broke out in the palace during a heated confrontation. Tragically, Arya's father lost his life in the blaze."
Cable's face reflected the horror of the realization: "No wonder Arya harbored such deep hatred towards Ethan... and this entire place."
Sofia's smile returned, filled with genuine joy: "But now, everything is resolved. Arya has forgiven him. Her heart is healed, and love has conquered all."
Sofia's voice was filled with warmth: "I am utterly delighted for them. I hope Arya and Ethan remain forever entwined in happiness." Cable smiled and embraced Sofia tightly, sharing her joy for the reunited couple.
Meanwhile, in Calorina...
The wheels of Arya's carriage came to a soft, rhythmic stop outside the grand estate gates of Calorina. As she stepped out into the golden afternoon sun, the familiar scent of blooming jasmine and lavender filled her lungs. Her heart was light, dancing with a joyous exhilaration she hadn't felt in years. She felt as though she were floating—her spirit soaring above the very clouds. She didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or simply spin in circles until she grew dizzy.
Her eyes, sparkling like diamonds, scanned the elegant courtyard, searching for that one familiar silhouette. Searching for Ethan.
Suddenly, the attention of the guards shifted behind her. Their expressions contorted from professional stoicism to visible shock and horror. Arya turned, her heart skipping a beat as she followed their gaze.
A group of battle-worn soldiers were approaching the gate, their movements heavy and grim. Between them, they carried a makeshift wooden stretcher. Arya's heart sank like a stone into a dark abyss as she realized who lay upon it.
It was Ethan... or at least, a shadow of the man she loved. He was barely recognizable. His once-proud form was now broken, his body soaked in layers of dark, dried blood. His face was a ghastly shade of pale, slick with cold sweat.
Driven by a raw, primal instinct, Arya's legs propelled her forward. She didn't just walk; she sprinted toward the soldiers, her voice trembling with a terrifying realization. "Oh gods... what happened to him?!"
The lead soldier offered a hasty, somber salute. "Princess Arya, we brought him back from the front lines just now. Ethan was caught in a brutal ambush... he was nearly killed in combat. He's lost an ocean of blood, Your Highness. His survival... it is uncertain."
Arya's world crashed around her. Despair, cold and suffocating, flooded her lungs. She reached out with a trembling hand to touch his clammy cheek, her heart shattering into a million jagged pieces. "He was supposed to come back to me whole... alive... loving me again," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Through the veil of her tears, she looked at the soldiers with a sudden, fierce authority. "Take him to Master Orion, the royal healer, immediately! Summon every skilled physician in Calorina—spare no expense! I want Ethan saved, no matter the cost!"
The soldiers moved swiftly, rushing the stretcher toward the palace infirmary. Arya followed close behind, her silk skirts billowing like a dark, omened cloud as she ran through the corridors. Her mind raced with nightmares—a life of silence, a future of 'what-ifs,' a world without Ethan.
She burst into the infirmary just as Master Orion was scrubbing his hands. "Master Orion, please... you must save him," she begged, grasping his arm with desperate strength.
Orion's expression was grave, but he offered a flickering candle of hope. "Princess, the wounds are deep—sword gashes, broken ribs, and massive hemorrhaging. But I have pulled men back from the brink before. We will do everything within our power."
Arya watched, her chest tight with agony, as the staff worked with surgical precision. They cleaned the grime and blood from his body, revealing the true extent of the damage. Master Orion meticulously examined the cuts. "The blade missed his vital organs by mere inches," he murmured, "but the blood loss is his greatest enemy right now."
"Will he wake up?" Arya asked, her voice a fragile thread.
"Once the fluids are replaced, he should regain consciousness," Orion replied.
Suddenly, a young healer gasped. "Master Orion, sir! His pulse... it's strengthening! He's fighting!"
Hope flared in Arya's chest like a dying ember catching wind. She leaned in closer, her eyes fixed on Ethan's face, waiting for his eyelids to flutter, for his hand to squeeze hers. But instead of the relief of awakening, Ethan's body went unnaturally still. His breathing became shallow and rhythmic, but his mind seemed to retreat into a dark, unreachable place.
Master Orion's face fell, turning grimmer than before. "No... wait. His body is reacting differently now. Ethan is slipping into a coma. His mind is shutting down to protect itself from the trauma of the pain."
Arya felt as though she had been punched in the gut. The air left her lungs in a painful wheeze. "A coma?! Oh gods, Master Orion—will he ever wake up?"
Orion's voice was laced with a heavy, clinical caution. "Coma cases are unpredictable, Princess. Some wake within hours... others take weeks, months... or even longer. And some..." He paused, his silence saying what his lips couldn't.
Arya collapsed into the chair beside the bed. She clutched Ethan's limp hand, pressing it against her tear-stained cheek. Her world had shattered, and the love of her life was now a ghost hovering between the light and the eternal dark.
"Ethan, please... come back to me," she sobbed into his palm. "I've forgiven you. I'm here... I need you to hear me... I love you."